


Trust is Like the Middle of the Ocean

by mythomagicallydelicious



Series: Who is In Control? [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fjord's backstory, Gen, Pre-Canon, Rated T for language, fjord's sailing days, the ocean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24063820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomagicallydelicious/pseuds/mythomagicallydelicious
Summary: Fjord gets a start on his new life as a sailor, and meets someone to look up to along the way.
Relationships: Fjord & Vandran (Critical Role)
Series: Who is In Control? [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735969
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	Trust is Like the Middle of the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> title taken for this work from the song TrusT by half-alive
> 
> -all previous works in the series have been taken by the song Control by Halsey. I'll go back and edit those notes later.

**19**

The first time he heard of the goddess of nature, Fjord saw her visage splayed in beautiful design upon a lighthouse in the port of Nicodranas. He’d not quite gotten his sea legs, and remembered nearly falling over as he’d looked up in wonder at the massive work of art and asked aloud what it meant.

A slightly older crewman followed his gaze and laughed.

“That’s the Wildmother, boy. Pray to her and hope for safe passage on the seas, guidance for the rudder, and winds in your favor.”

Fjord shivered at her name, but continued in his curiosity. “Do you? Pray to her, I mean. For all that? Sorry, the size and scale is really rather quite large. It’s a bit off-putting.” The statue’s eyes were closed but a feeling of being seen pervaded the air. Nicodranas was busier than Port Damali. More people, more sailors at docks, more workers bustling around them. Fjord wondered if they got used to that strange feeling of being watched over by such a monument.

“Nah, but me and Peter sometimes tip our hats as we sail on by. It’s what you show to a lady, right? Respects as you pass?” the crewman laughs again and spits over the side of the boat. “Occasionally I’ll throw a coin to her, but no more ‘an a copper. All my years of sailing, and one thing I know is ya can’t trust anyone more than yer crew. Not the winds and waves that can’t make up their minds whether to be in yer favor, and not the gods neither. Fickle and far away. No use for ‘em out here. Just us, our skill, our intuition, and our crew.”

Fjord nodded, turning away from the statue. “How long have you been sailing, if I might ask?”

“Oh, bout thirty years. Been sailing with Captain Warren on and off for the last seven or eight.”

Fjord was impressed. From what he gathered, positions on ships were usually a little more variable to change than that. “That’s incredible. I’m sorry if it’s a bother, but I’d love to learn how to be good enough to be kept around for that long,” Fjord asks. The older man gives him a stern, shrewd look, not giving anything away.

“You’re a bit skinny, but we can fix that. You got a look about ya, kid. Determination or resilience. And ya didn’t puke yer guts out the first week at sea.” He suddenly grins, wrinkles retracting into laugh lines for a moment. “I’ll teach ya what I know. We’ll turn ya into a proper sailor in no time, kid. What’s yer name again?”

Fjord smiles, offering his hand to shake. “Fjord—just Fjord,” he decides, forgoing a surname.

The man nods, giving a quick, firm shake before dropping it. “The name’s Vandran.” He leans in and throws an arm around Fjord’s shoulder. “And ya didn’t hear it from me, but old Warren’s retiring soon and I’m in position to take on this whole operation…”

As Fjord was led back down into the bowels of the ship, the lighthouse slipped from his mind, as did the goddess it was devoted to.

-

**20**

“You gotta have a nice healthy respect for the ocean, boy. Fear her, and love her. She’ll rock ya to sleep as easily as drown ya. There ain’t no taming her neither. Just learning to read her moods and navigate her waters. Got it?” Vandran was mending nets as he spoke, cutting rope and re-tying complex knots. Fjord found himself having to split his attention between the motions of his hands and the words Vandran was speaking. He nodded along and began attempting a smaller version of the complicated knots on a spare piece of rope, cut and cast off.

“Now, you’re a little green, but you got the determination down.” Fjord’s shoulders stiffen immediately at the mention of _green_ , but Vandran barrels on through like it meant nothing. Maybe it didn’t. “You gotta love the ocean like your mistress, and treat her like your wife, got it?”

Fjord nodded again, stomach turning over as the chosen metaphor has time to settle and process in his brain.

“Good. Cause if ya get it twisted, son, then you’ll be fucked ten ways to Sunday sooner than a seagull can shit.” Vandran grins and drops the ropes he’s been working on. “Alright, kid, show me what ya got. If it’s no good you’re on cleaning duty for two weeks, understand?”

Fjord nodded once more, wiping his palms on his trouser leg real quick before handing his knots over to Vandran for inspection.

Vandran grunts as he turns it over in his hands. “Not bad, Fjord. See if you can’t figure out how to repair these nets before we ship off, yeah?” Vandran grins and stands, giving Fjord’s shoulder a firm clap before heading off to his other work. Fjord feels the warm glow of approval settle in his chest as he pulls the netting toward himself once more.

**Author's Note:**

> I personally always spelled it as Vandren with an E so like if I slip up on here don't say anything lol. I'll try and keep it consistent but I might forget.
> 
> Thanks for reading :D
> 
> Comments/Kudos appreciated


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